


Airstrike's Pet

by CircuitSaloon



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Gen, Pets, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:08:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28023720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CircuitSaloon/pseuds/CircuitSaloon
Summary: Crowbar may have bitten off more than he can chew with this favor...
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Airstrike's Pet

Standing outside of Airstrike’s top floor apartment door, Crowbar dug through his subspace panel for her keycard. She had entrusted it to him, as she had left on vacation. Airstrike works very hard to ensure the safety of the people of Satellite, and she deserved a week off. Many would have argued that she should have taken _more_ time off for herself, but she would have argued back. She didn’t want to take too much time off. The people needed her.

After successfully locating the keycard, he reached up and swiped it through the card reader, and the door unlocked with a _beep._ The motion sensor read his presence and opened for him and Crowbar walked inside. As he entered, the light sensors activated and illuminated the space.

It was large, as he should have expected. Just by the looks of it he wished he had her salary. He walked around a bit, daydreaming of how he’d decorate things if it was _his_ apartment. But after a few moments of looking, he remembered why he was there in the first place.

Airstrike had a pet, and she had asked Crowbar to look after him while she was away. Crowbar didn’t own any pets, so he thought this would be a good opportunity for a trial run. She had given Crowbar a list of things he needed to know and do in order to take care of him. He needed to eat his canned food, which was labeled for Crowbar’s convenience, twice a day. He needed to be taken out for a walk or played with to burn off his excess energy. His waste box needed to be cleaned out every other day. He _himself_ needed to be cleaned as visibly necessary. The tasks she had given Crowbar were simple and he knew he could do it. Airstrike had ensured Crowbar that _Metallico_ was well behaved and shouldn’t give him any problems. If he did, she was only a comm call away.

...But where _was_ he?

Crowbar walked to the couch and got on his knee plates to look under it, hoping to spy a small animal looking back at him. But he wasn’t there. _“Curious,”_ the motorcycle thought to himself. He got up and continued looking. Airstrike hadn’t specified what type of pet she had, so he wasn’t quite sure what exactly it was that he was looking for.

There were three other rooms in the large apartment to check. One of them was the washracks, which Crowbar quickly discovered. His optics ogled over the large tub immediately, and he wondered if his boss would mind if he used it for himself. _Maybe drink a little high grade while he was in it, too._ He smiled as he thought of doing such a thing, but he quickly focused once again on finding Metallico.

The second room was locked, and Crowbar had a feeling it was Airstrike’s berthroom. So all that was left the third room near the back of the apartment. It’s door was opened but the room was pitch black. As he approached it and walked in cautiously, the light sensors reacted to his movements and illuminated the small room. What was an inquisitive smile quickly melted away as a look of absolute terror became Crowbar’s face. _On the berth was a massive beast with large protruding fangs with claws to match._

His mouth hung open to gasp, but his hands quickly covered it so as to not wake the sleeping monster. _But it was too late._ The light being turned on had awakened it out of sleep mode, and bright, orange optics burned right through Crowbar’s own and straight into his spark, sending electric fear down his spinal strut. The creature slowly rose from where it was and began making a _rumbling growl_ at him. Crowbar took a slow step back, being _extremely apprehensive_ about any and all movements he was about to make. But the one he was currently making the beast disapproved of immediately, opening it’s sharply toothed maw to let out a mighty roar at the stranger. It was then that Crowbar’s frame acted on it’s own in survival mode. He made a quick turn and made a run for it, only making it as far as the washracks before the sound of large metal paws slammed onto the floor to chase after him.

Crowbar locked the door of the washracks with shaky hands, still being able to hear the loud growls coming from the other side of the metal door. “Oh, Primus! _Oh, Primus…!”_ he vented, falling to his knee plates. His spark throbbed in his chest, and he wondered if he was about to have a spark attack. He took one of his servos that was still shaking and touched the side of his helm which would initiate a call sequence. He listened to the dial tone ring through his mind until he heard the accepted comm tone.

_“Crowbar,”_ Airstrike said on the other line, “It’s only day one of my vacation...don’t tell me something’s wrong...”

“AIRSTRIKE, YOUR PET HAS BEEN EATEN BY THIS HORRIBLE BEAST!! THANK _PRIMUS_ I MANAGED TO BARRICADE MYSELF IN THE WASHRACKS BECAUSE I SWEAR I’M ABOUT TO _LUBRICATE ON MYSELF…!!”_

“Crowbar, you need to calm down,” she said to her frantic secretary.

“CALM _DOWN?!?_ I NEED TO CALL ANIMAL CONTROL!! _OR THE LOCAL MILITIA!!”_

Airstrike laughed.

“That won’t be necessary. Metallico is a big baby.”

Crowbar’s intake hung open, his brain module failing to give his vocalizer instruction. But after a moment composing himself, he reset it. “Airstrike,” he began, “are you telling me this _CYBERTOOTH TIGER_ is your _PET?!”_

“Don’t worry. He’s completely domesticated,” she answered him. “He wouldn’t hurt a flybot.”

“YOU COULD'VE GIVEN ME A WARNING AT LEAST!!”

“And have you turn down my request outright? _I think not,”_ Airstrike said. “Besides, it not like I was about to ask Scooter to do it.” There was a pause before she spoke again. “I’m going to hang up now. My masseuse just walked in.”

Crowbar sat on his knees half dumbfounded, half _traumatized_ as Airstrike disconnected herself from the call. 

This was going to be a very long week...

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea about Airstrike having a big 'ol kitty cat floating around my noggin for about a week now and decided to start writing a little fic about it! Something funny and kinda silly. I'm probably gonna update this fic irregularly because I want to write other things, too!
> 
> If you like this fic or the characters in it you can read more about them in Hammer & Nails, my original Transformers series in my Works section. You can also find me @CircuitSaloon on Twitter!
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3


End file.
